Things Fall Apart
by darken-the-legends
Summary: "Honestly, she hated him. She completely and utterly hated him, for if she hadn't loved him, perhaps her sister would've loved her." Lily Evans didn't regret her choices, but she couldn't help continuously wondering what if.


**Hi :) Some… well, not really angst, but depressing writing for you all.**

 **I have been asked if I can write something happy.**

 **I am still trying. It's taking an alarmingly long time…**

 **Lily**

It was raining.

It had been raining for a long time.

If you were perched just outside the window, it might look as if the face of the woman inside was free of sadness – perhaps she was in thought about some serious matter that she needed to make a decision on. But, what might have seemed a reflection of the dreary weather outside were actually tears sliding down her cheeks.

Continuously.

If there really was a limit to the amount of tears you could cry, the woman mused, maybe it didn't apply… for people who had magic. Like her. Like her husband. And unlike her blood sister.

Lily Evans seemed carved out of marble, her face completely and utterly devoid of any emotion except pensive thought – a natural reflex when she was trying not to let anything show. The only things ruining the image of the Roman statue were her flaming auburn hair, bright green eyes, and the tears that were slowly but surely sliding out of them, for she was of that unusual and partly envied class who could cry without looking terrible.

Not only that, but she was intelligent, pretty, well-connected, set up for a good job and even had magic. Yet, the terrible irony was that she would have traded everything listed above for just one thing – her sister accepting her. And she would've done. Except for one person – one face - one name. James Potter.

Honestly, she hated him. She completely and utterly hated him, for if she hadn't loved him, perhaps her sister would've loved her.

But it was there – irrevocably so, no matter how much she wished to change it. And everything had been going so well. Until the day she announced her engagement to James Potter… Yes, that had been it. The stumbling point; the thing she had done so badly wrong that she had gone past any conceivable hope of balancing her magic and her family together so she could live the life she had wanted to live. Hell, why had she fallen in love with him… why had he not only let her, but loved her back…

The tears had been sliding down Petunia's cheeks then, too, almost exactly like they fell down Lily's cheeks now – graceful and detached from reality. Possibly the only physical attribute the two sisters shared.

" _Tuney, why can't you accept it! Please! This is just who I am now!"_

A bitter glance – a softening expression – her taut lips moved – " _Then choose, Lily. I can't see you marry him – you'll just get tugged under and I know what you're doing – you're getting caught up in the freak war. You're going to get yourself killed! Why don't you see it? God, why don't you_ understand?"

And she hadn't been able to understand at all – to get what her only sister was saying – it took several moments before she replied, incredulously – _"You can't give me an ultimatum!"_

" _I am, Lily. It's him or me this time. You can walk away unscathed, or you can go with him and get mutilated like that horrible man with the fake eye – it's not natural… you'll end up like that, or worse – dead! I just want you to be safe!"_

" _You want me to leave magic?"_

She hadn't replied… of course she hadn't; there had been no question. No thought. Petunia was the epitome of a girl living a happy, stable life – engaged to Vernon Dursley, a working man with money, and she herself who wore designer clothes and had perfect hair and manicured nails and yet… she needed control over Lily's life, too. But her sister couldn't be hurt. No.

And Lily Evans had chosen – the selfish choice. James over Petunia. The easy choice – he was so much easier to get along with than her sister had ever been… so much easier to love, and, Merlin, she loved him – even his ridiculous pranks and stupid attitude that he hadn't left behind at school.

And now the tears, pearly and incandescent for a moment in the eerie grey light, but then it faded and they were just inconvenient traces of salty water down her cheeks – the tears stopped.

Maybe she'd reached the limit of tears she could cry.

Maybe…

She would have her fairy tale, but it was a bittersweet life at that. What if. What if. Whatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatifwhatif… What if she hadn't had magic? Would she and her sister have had that unbreakable bond sisters were supposed to, or would it have been shattered anyway by their inevitably clashing personalities?

The salty tracks faded.

Lily Evans remained in the window, a porcelain statue, thinking pale paper thoughts until the sun sank below the horizon and the night and moon and stars and clouds came out to play, mockingly cluttered yet decided in their paths… fate would play out. She would be heralded as a martyr.

Everyone would always forget about her lovely and bitter Muggle sister.

She'd made her choice, after all.


End file.
